


Come all ye Evil

by Art3misiA



Category: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling, The Evil Dead (1981 2013)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, The Evil Dead, The Slytherin Cabal's Twistmas 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:48:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21878401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Art3misiA/pseuds/Art3misiA
Summary: Albus and Scorpius set out on what was supposed to be a perfectly ordinary trip to choose a tree for the Slytherin common room. Pity things didn't turn out that way.
Relationships: Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3
Collections: Twistmas 2019 - A Dark Remix Xmas Fest





	Come all ye Evil

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Twistmas2019](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Twistmas2019) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Choosing a Christmas Tree together
> 
> Alpha love to QuinTalon, and Beta love to CourtingInsanity. Any remaining errors are my own.
> 
> I'm huge fan of Evil Dead/Ash Williams and this prompt gave me all the crossover vibes! I hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> I don't earn any money from HP/ED or any other universes or characters, etc, etc. I merely take liberties with them.

_The man was cleaning out the fire grate when he noticed one of the large, old-fashioned bricks the fireplace was made of appeared to be loose._

_He wiggled it, and it came free. He peered curiously into the hole, but it was too dark to see anything. Standing, the man crossed the small room and grabbed a torch from the drawer of a desk that sat in the corner. Hurrying back to the fireplace, he turned it on and directed the beam of light into the hole. There was definitely something in there, wrapped in some sort of cloth._

_“Amelia!” he called out. “Honey, come here and look at this!”_

_A woman entered, drying her hands on a dishcloth. “What is it, Brian?”_

_“There’s something hidden inside the fireplace!” Brian answered, anticipation and wonder in his voice._

_Amelia crossed the room to look. Her husband moved aside so she could see for herself. “How strange,” she murmured, peering into the hole. “I wonder what it is. Can you get it out?”_

_Brian began wiggling the surrounding bricks experimentally, testing for any others that might be loose. The two below the hole came out easily, leaving a space big enough for him to reach through._

_“Wait,” his wife said hesitantly, laying a hand on his arm. “Be careful. There could be something dangerous in there.”_

_Brian shone his torch into the space once more. It illuminated the wrapped shape, and nothing else. Shrugging, he extended his hand and grasped the object inside. Withdrawing it, he commented, “It feels like some sort of book.”_

_“An album, maybe?” Amelia wondered, frowning slightly. “I can’t think of anything else someone would hide in a fireplace.”_

_“It’s a wonder it didn’t ignite from the radiant heat of the fire,” Brian observed, turning it over in his hands. He noted the odd texture of the cloth as he peeled it back and grimaced slightly. It felt… unpleasant. Rubbery. Warm. Although he supposed the warmth could be attributed to being in the fireplace._

_Pulling the book free, the back facing him, the first thing Brian thought was how strange the cover was, and that it seemed to be made of a fabric similar to what it had been wrapped in. He turned it over and blinked in shock. Beside him, Amelia let out a revolted gasp. He glanced over at her to see she had a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide._

_Removing a hand, she whispered, “My God — it’s_ hideous! _Who would keep such a creepy thing?”_

_The cover featured a grotesque face of someone—or something—in pain. The eyes were slits and the mouth was turned down in a grimace. Brian shook his head, then opened it. There were words there, written in red ink. He laughed._

_“Look at these funny words, honey,” he chucked, running his finger over the text. Flipping the pages, he observed the few illustrations with interest._

_“Yuck,” Amelia groaned. “Put that thing back where you got it, Brian — or better yet, throw it out. Use it to light the fire, I don’t care. Just get rid of it, it’s freaking me out.” She stood and swiftly exited the room, leaving her husband alone with his find._

_Brian barely noticed. He was scanning the strange letters, his lips moving soundlessly as he tried to sound out the unfamiliar words written in the funny language.  
  
_

* * *

“Right, everyone draw straws.”

The Slytherin prefect, Brad Michaels, held out his hand, sticks protruding from his fist. The assembled students all reached out to grab one, good-naturedly jostling each other, and compared the lengths. A laugh went up.

“Al got the short straw!”

“Better you than me, mate!”

“You better pick a good one, Potter!”

Christmas was fast approaching, and as per the yearly tradition which had been observed every year since the end of the second Wizarding war, the Slytherin students from years five and up drew straws on the second Friday of December to decide who among them would venture out to choose a tree for the house common room. This year, in his seventh and final year at Hogwarts, Albus Potter had won that honour.

As the crowd dispersed, the students going back to their business, Scorpius Malfoy approached his best friend. “Bad luck, mate,” he sympathised with a grin.

“You’ll come with me, won’t you, Scorp?” Albus asked, looking beseechingly at the blond boy.

“I don’t know. Got lots to do, you know. Homework and stuff,” Scorpius replied noncommittally, rubbing his neck and looking towards the window, where the Great Squid was swimming past.

“Come on. Please?” Albus begged.

“Only if you shout butterbeers at the Three Broomsticks afterwards,” Scorpius bargained.

“Fine, butterbeers after,” Albus grumbled, though he was pleased all the same. He didn’t mind doing things on his own, not usually, but he didn’t want the pressure of making a decision about a tree sitting squarely on his shoulders. A tree was a tree to him. At least if he had his friend with him, he would have the security of seeking a second opinion.

“When do you want to go?” Scorpius asked.

“No time like the present,” Albus decided. “We’ll go tonight, after dinner.”

Several hours later, the boys were leaving the castle, headed for a plantation Albus knew. The sky was just beginning to darken, nightfall rapidly approaching.

“My dad used to take us there every year when we were younger,” he explained to Scorpius. “It’s owned by a Muggle couple, but he reckons the trees are really good quality there. They last for ages and have lots of leaves on them.”

“Needles,” Scorpius corrected.

Albus shrugged. “Whatever.”

They walked into Hogsmeade, then Apparated to a spot just outside the tree plantation. They had both sat and passed their Apparition tests a few weeks ago, and did not hesitate to use this mode of transport whenever the opportunity arose.

Wandering over to the entrance, Albus looked around for the owner, who was normally seated in a small hut near the fence. The space was empty.

“He’s probably in the loo, or something,” Albus said, leading Scorpius past the gate. Large spotlights mounted around the perimeter of the plantation illuminated the expansive grounds, driving back the inky blackness that had crept in around them as night descended.

“There sure are a lot of trees here,” Scorpius observed, looking around with interest.

“Yeah,” Albus agreed. “Normally the owner tells you where to go to find the mature trees that are ready to be cut, but I think I remember where they are. It’s this way.” He headed towards a winding path leading through the rows of pine trees, standing like sentinels in the snow.

As they wandered through the plantation, Albus observed an occasional fellow tree-shopper examining the pines around them. Most people were in small groups of two or three, adults and a few other teenagers.

“It’s quiet,” he muttered to Scorpius.

“Too quiet,” Scorpius replied immediately.

The boys grinned at each other. One of their favourite term break activities was watching Muggle movies and television series. They would have watched them at Hogwarts as well, but Muggle electronics didn’t work in the castle, and besides, there were no electrical outlets.

“This is the part where a vampire or a werewolf would pop out at us, or maybe a zombie,” Albus whispered in a spooky voice. 

“I still think it’s hilarious that Muggles think all those things are make-believe,” Scorpius snorted.

Albus stopped in front of a particularly fat-looking tree and appraised it critically, his head on one side. “What do you think of this one?”

“I don’t think this one is ready to cut, yet,” Scorpius challenged. The tree was only slightly taller than Albus. “It’s a bit small, isn’t it?” 

“I don’t know!” Albus exclaimed, exasperated. “I don’t really care about trees, and I haven’t the foggiest what a good one would look like.”

“Let’s keep looking,” Scorpius suggested. 

They had been wandering for some time when suddenly a scream cut through the air. Both boys turned towards the sound.

“Was that a good scream or a bad scream?” Albus frowned.

“Hard to tell,” Scorpius replied. “But I think it might be a bad one. We should go check it out.”

“What can we do? We’re only teenagers,” Albus argued, shoving his hands nervously in his pockets. He _hated_ getting involved in other peoples’ affairs.

“Well, the person might need help.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Albus muttered, kicking at the snow. The thing was, because of his name, everyone seemed to expect him to rush in and be the hero in a difficult situation. He was no hero, and had no desire to be one, either. Let someone who is more capable deal with it.

“Come on,” Scorpius urged, heading in the direction the sound had come from. Albus followed reluctantly with a whispered curse.

A second scream rent the air, followed by a strange, inhuman howl, and Scoripus began to run, drawing his wand as he went. Albus had no choice but to follow suit. Their shadows, long in the beams of the floodlights, bobbed alongside them, stark against the white snow.

“We’re not supposed to use magic outside of school!” he panted. “We’ll need to be careful.”

“Between your dad and mine, I’m sure we wouldn’t get in too much trouble if we do,” Scoripus argued. 

Albus was forced to silently agree. Being the son of a famous wizard was a pain in the arse, and most of the time he and Scorpius hated living in their fathers’ shadows, but at times the connections could come in useful. Like now.

Albus caught movement in the corner of his eye. A dark blur flew out of the trees, headed straight for Scorpius. “Scorp! Behind you!” He raised his wand and fired off a stunning spell at the attacker. It missed, striking a tree and blasting a cloud of needles into the air.

Scorpius ducked and rolled, and the thing overshot him, tumbling in the snow. It got to its feet, giggling and shrieking. Albus was left mute with shock. It _looked_ sort of like the plantation owner, only—

It went for Scorpius again, and this time it was he who fired the stunning spell. It was a direct hit, but to Albus’ dismay, it only slowed the thing down.

“I’m gonna get you, little boy!” the thing screeched, cackling maniacally as it rushed at Scorpius.

“ _Protego!”_ Scorp cast a shield charm and the thing bounced backwards, away from him. It shook its head and charged again, throwing itself against the barrier, which cracked.

“ _Incarcerous!”_ Albus waved his wand and ropes flew from the tip, binding the creature. It flailed around in the snow, trying to get free. Albus took the opportunity to examine it more closely. It definitely was— or _had_ been, at least — the plantation owner. But now he— _it—_ looked inhuman and positively deranged.

“I’m going to kill you both, little boys! Drag you to Hell! You’ll burn, burn with me down there!” 

It turned to Albus. “You! You, boy! Your Great-Godfather is down there too! He’s being fucked in the arse by _his—”_ it nodded towards Scorpius “—Great-Grandfather! Ahahahahaha!”

“Shut up about Sirius!” Albus yelled. 

His dad had told him all about Sirius - how he’d been framed by Wormtail, and spent all those years in Azkaban before escaping, only to be killed by his cousin Bellatrix shortly after Voldemort returned.

_“Ahahahahahaha!”_ the thing screamed, still attempting to get loose. Albus and Scorpius backed away from it.

Faintly, Albus could hear more screams and yells. Were there more of these things? He also thought he could hear a faint buzzing sound.

“It’s like an inferi, but not,” he observed. “As far as I know, inferi can’t talk.”

“Albus. Look.”

Scorpius was looking up, He pointed, and Albus turned to look. The tops of the trees had begun to sway, as if they were being blown about in a brisk wind. Only, there _was_ no wind. The night air was still and calm.

“Something is very wrong here,” Scorpius stated. Albus snorted; it was quite obvious something was wrong.

The buzzing sound Albus had heard was coming closer. He strained to listen, turning around in a slow circle in an attempt to identify just where the sound was coming from. Now _all_ the trees were swaying alarmingly, seeming to build up momentum as they moved.

“What’s that noise?” Scorpius whispered. “It sounds like one of those Muggle things in the movie we watched - you know, about the guy who wore skin as a mask - that tool for cutting wood and stuff. A chinsore?”

“Chainsaw,” Albus corrected, absently. His heart was hammering painfully in his chest as he realised that yes, it did sound like a chainsaw. 

“Look out!” 

Albus was suddenly shoved sideways. He landed face first in the snow, getting powder in his mouth and up his nose. Moments later, he felt and heard a _whump_ directly beside him - something heavy and very large had struck the snow where he had just been standing. He rolled over onto his back and gaped at the sight of one of the pine trees lifting into the air, snow and needles raining from its branches.

“What in the name of Circe…?” Albus gasped. Scorpius came running to help him up. “Thanks,” he said breathlessly as his friend lifted him to his feet.

“ _Hahahahaha! Gonna get you!”_ came the taunting cry of the thing.

The boys turned to it and saw with unease that it had nearly gotten loose.

“How in Merlin’s name is it _doing_ that?” Scorpius asked, worry in his voice. His face was pinched and white as he lifted his wand, ready to counter another attack.

Albus became aware that the chainsaw sound was very near now, coming from their left, on the other side of where the tree had struck the ground. 

Suddenly, several things happened at once. The trees all around them began thumping violently into the snow, causing them to duck and dodge, running for a clearing that separated the rows; the thing got free of the ropes and stood; and a second figure emerged from the direction the chainsaw sound had been coming from, sprinting to avoid the boughs raining down around him.

Albus had time to notice the second figure was carrying a grinding chainsaw in one hand, and what appeared to be a shotgun in the other - although something wasn’t quite _right_ about the way he was holding the chainsaw.

“Look out, kid!” the chainsaw-and-shotgun man yelled, and Albus turned to see the thing bearing down on them, its teeth bared in a fearsome grin and its hands outstretched, its fingers curled into claws.

In a panic, with it almost upon them, he reacted with the first spell that popped into his head. _“Sectumsempra!”_

At such close range, the thing was cut almost in two across the torso and fell to the ground, blood rapidly staining the snow. Around them, the trees abruptly ceased their hammering and stood upright once again. Incredibly, the pieces of the thing continued to squirm. The upper half was trying to drag itself towards them even as Scorpius and Albus retreated, and the movement caused the pieces to separate altogether. 

The man who had emerged through the trees came running up to them. “Holy shit, kid! What the fuck did you _do?_ ” he cried, obviously impressed. He laid the shotgun across his other arm and aimed it at the thing, pulling the trigger. Its head exploded in a mess of bone, brain and flesh, splattering their faces with gore.

Albus felt his stomach heave and turned quickly away, vomiting into the snow. Dimly he registered Scorpius doing the same thing.

The man, bizarrely, was laughing. “Lookit you two greenhorns,” he chuckled. “Don’t worry, you get used to it.”

Finally, Albus stood, wiping his mouth. He looked at the man, who was switching off his chainsaw. Finally, he realised what had been strange about it. The chainsaw was _attached_ to his wrist!

“Now, boys,” the man said in a regretful tone, “I need to make sure you’re not gonna turn into deadites. Do me a solid and just stay right there.”

Albus felt his chest constrict as he realised the man was now pointing his shotgun directly at him and Scorpius, swinging it gently back and forth between them. He glanced at Scorpius to see him twitch his wand hand.

“Nuh uh, kid, just keep those hands where I can see em,” the man warned, grinning at them. “Better put em up in the air.”

Albus and Scorpius exchanged a look, then both raised their hands in the air, still clutching their wands. Albus was trying to calculate whether he could fire off a stunning spell before this crazy Muggle with the chainsaw instead of a hand could shoot him, when he spoke again.

“Say, what’s with the sticks?” he asked. “Are you witchdoctors?”

“Witchdoctors? No,” frowned Albus. “We’re Wi—”

“Al! Shut _up_!” Scorpius hissed. Then, “What’s a dead—that name you used earlier?”

“Deadite? Kid, that—” the man nodded towards the headless thing lying motionless in the snow. “—is a deadite. An undead spirit that possesses a body so it can eat the souls of the living.”

“So they _are_ like inferi,” Albus muttered. “Look, mister. We’re not going to turn into— into _deadites._ It didn’t get us.”

“That’s what they all say,” the man replied darkly. “You think they’re perfectly fine, a nice, normal, living person, then BAM! They’re all crazy and ugly and trying to rip your face off.”

Just then, they heard a shriek, and another figure - a woman, this time - burst through the treeline, coming straight for them.

“ _Aaaaaghhhhhh! Fuckeeeeers!”_ she screamed.

The man spun on his heel, bringing the shotgun up again and firing just as she leapt at him. The force threw her backwards but she was up on her feet again in moments. Meanwhile the man had dropped the gun at his feet and yanked the pull cord on the chainsaw. It screamed to life and he swung his arm down, cutting through her shoulder as she reached for him, then kicked her away. She staggered back, her arm dangling loosely, and made to come at him again. 

“Albus, use the slicing spell!” Scorpius shouted.

In tandem, the boys lifted their wands. “ _Sectumsempra!”_

The force of two slicing spells hitting the thing at once split her in half, right down the middle. The two pieces flopped to the ground, guts spilling out around it and landing with a soft _squelch._ They steamed in the cold air.

“Hey, you kids are really good!” the man exclaimed, switching off the chainsaw and turning back to them. “That’s that trick you used before. How’d you do that?”

Scorpius and Albus exchanged a glance.

“He’s no ordinary Muggle,” Albus reasoned quietly. “We should tell him.”

Scorpius still looked unsure, but nodded in assent.

Turning back to the man, he said, “We’re wizards. We cast a spell—a curse, really—that slices the target.”

The man seemed completely unfazed by this explanation, nodding as if it made perfect sense. “Wizards? Cool. What are your names, fellas?”

“I’m Albus. This is Scorpius. Who are you?”

The man grinned, holding out his left hand to shake. “I’m Ash Williams.”

“You know,” he continued thoughtfully. “We could be a great team. Take down all the rest of these deadites together, save the world, get the chicks—”

“There are _more_ of these things?” Albus groaned.

“Well, of course.” Ash looked at him as if he had asked if the sun rose in the morning. “Someone’s woken the evil, and now it’s going to possess every living thing around here unless we stop it.”

“How _do_ we stop it? The evil?” Scorpius asked.

“We gotta find the source. Find it and destroy it,” Ash explained, pulling shotgun shells from a bandolier strung across his chest and breaking open the weapon. He reloaded it with quick, sure movements, snapped it shut again and rested the barrel on his shoulder.

“And how do we do that?” Albus pressed. _Why can’t adults just explain things in full instead of answering in riddles?_ He thought, crossly.

“There’s a book called the _Necronomicon Ex-Mortis_ ,” Ash continued, his eyes darting around them. ‘It’s bound in human skin and written in blood. It has the power to summon the darkest evil when someone reads from the ancient text.”

“So it’s Dark magic,” Albus mused, glancing at Scorpius. Turning back to Ash, he explained, “There are lots of books full of dark magic in our world. They’re very dangerous, and can be hard to destroy. Often, they’re protected with Dark spells and curses, and you need a curse breaker to deal with them in order to prevent anyone from getting hurt.”

“Are either of you curse breakers?” Ash asked, his expression hopeful.

“Good Godric, no,” Scorpius snorted. “We’re not even out of school, yet.”

“Pity,” Ash sighed. “It would have made things a helluva lot easier.”

Another scream floated back to them, and Ash brought his shotgun back into the ready position. “Come on, boys. We need to go before more deadites come.” He hurried off without so much as a glance backwards, forcing Albus and Scorpius to follow after him.

“That first guy—he’s—well, he _was_ —the plantation owner,” Albus said hesitantly as they tramped through the snow. His mind was trying to work through what he had seen and learned. “The second one, the woman, she was his wife.”

Ash glanced back over his shoulder and nodded approvingly. “That’s a good start. It was probably one of them that woke the evil.”

“How do you know so much about the Necromon—the Necronon—whatever the book is called?” Albus asked.

Ash stopped abruptly in his tracks and turned to face them, holding up the arm that had the chainsaw attached. “I’m connected to it,” he replied mysteriously. “It nearly got me, once. But I was stronger. Cost me my hand, but I beat the motherfucker.” He grinned manically.

“How did you just _happen_ to end up here at the same time those deadite things showed up?” Scorpius asked suspiciously. “How do we know it wasn’t _you_ who summoned the evil?”

“Hey, kid, gimme a break,” Ash grumbled irritably, looking offended. “If it hadn’t been for me, you’d be deadite food right now.”

_“Oh, Aaaaash….!”_ a high-pitched voice called from the shadows. All three spun around, trying to pinpoint the direction of the voice. _“We’re going to get you, Ash..!”_ it seemed to be coming from nowhere and everywhere at once.

“Where is it?” Scorpius whispered fearfully, his wand at the ready.

“It’s fucking with us. Be careful,” Ash cautioned. Glancing at Albus, he asked, “Did the owners live around here?”

“Yes, they have a cabin near the road, at the east end of the plantation.” He pointed through the trees in the direction he thought it was situated.

“Okay, let’s go,” Ash instructed. “Lead the way, kid.”

_Lead? Me? Salazar’s sack!_ “My name’s Albus, not ‘kid’,” he grumbled out loud as he turned back to the path and began to try and find his way back to the road.

“ _Yes, run away, Ash! Run away like you did after you slashed them all up!”_

“Shut up! I didn’t slash them! It was the evil!” he shouted back as they made their way through the rows of trees.

_“Ashy Slashy... ASHY Slashy... Ashy SLASHY… ASHY SLASHY! ASHY SLASHY! ASHY SLASHY—!”_

“Fuck you, you bastards!” 

“There! The road!” Albus exclaimed, pointing.

“Look out!” Scorpius yelled.

_Whap!_ The trees began attacking once again, raining blows in the snow all around them, forcing the trio to duck and dodge. Sprinting, they rushed for the entrance and dived past the fence, rolling in the slush and mud.

Panting, they got up and attempted to wipe themselves off. “Right, it should be up that way somewhere,” Albus said, pointing at the small road running alongside the fenceline. They started to follow the faint tyre tracks that remained in the snow.

“Why were those things calling you Ashy Slashy? And how, exactly, did you get involved with the book in the first place?” Scorpius pressed as they walked.

Ash sighed. “All this started years ago. We all went up to a cabin in the woods. Me, Linda, Cheryl, Scott and Shelly. It was supposed to be a fun weekend. That’s where we first encountered the book.” He looked broodingly at Albus and Scorpius as they walked.

“Before I knew it, the evil had escaped and taken them all. Possessed them, turned them into deadites. I had no choice, I had to stop them. They weren’t human any more.”

“So you _did_ kill them?” Albus challenged.

“No! I didn’t kill my friends! They weren’t my friends anymore, they were deadites!” Ash replied petulantly.

Albus shook his head in disbelief. “Why have you got a chainsaw instead of a hand?” 

“The evil possessed my hand. I had to cut it off to stop it. I didn’t turn into a deadite, but now I can sense the bastards. And the book,” Ash replied, his eyes narrowed. 

“So you’re a Seer?” Scorpius asked sceptically.

“I dunno, what’s that? I don’t really _see_ them. I just feel their presence.”

“Are all Muggles this mental?” Scorpius whispered to Albus.

“Hey! I’m _not_ mental, you little asshole!” Ash remarked, indignantly. “And I’m not a _Muggle_ , I’m Ash!”

“Yeah, well, you _sound_ mental,” Scorpius retorted. “And a Muggle is what we call non-magical people, dumbarse.”

“Don’t call me a _dumbarse_ , dumbass!”

Albus snorted. _Honestly._ This guy was worse than their classmates. “There, up ahead! The cabin!” He pointed.

Through the trees, they could see a faint glow of light, and hurried towards it. When they reached the house, the first thing Albus noticed was that the door was ajar. Ash pushed ahead of him and entered without pausing to check his surroundings. 

“This guy’s an idiot,” Scorpius muttered as they followed, wands at the ready. They stepped into an entranceway that led to a small but cozy-looking living room with a fireplace against the back wall.

Once inside, Ash slipped his shotgun into a holster on his back and started searching the room, opening cupboards, tipping out drawers.

“Hey!” Albus exclaimed, affronted. This is someone’s _house_ , you know!”

“They’re both dead, Al,” Ash replied dryly. “I don’t think they’re gonna object.”

Somewhere behind them, a clock started bonging ominously, causing them all to jump. The cupboards began slamming open and closed. An otherworldly giggling started up.

“What’s going on?” Albus asked nervously.

“It’s the evil,” Ash replied ominously. “It takes control of everything. It’s getting stronger. We need to find that book.” He went back to his searching.

“Why don’t we just try summoning it?” Albus suggested.

“Good idea,” Scorpius agreed. “Ash, what’s the book called again?”

“Necromonicon Ex-Mortis,” he replied distractedly, pulling out a cabinet to look behind it.

“Necronomicon Ex-Mortis, Necronomicon Ex-Mortis,” Scorpius muttered, getting himself familiar with the correct pronunciation. He waved his wand. “ _Accio Necronomicon Ex-Mortis!”_

Everyone jumped as the bricks making up the fireplace burst outwards and a shape wrapped in some sort of cloth sailed towards them. Scorpius threw his hands in the air, catching it deftly, and promptly dropped it again. “Sweet Salazar, what _is_ that? It feels gross!” he exclaimed, indicating the cloth as he wiped his hands on his clothes with a grimace. It had fallen open, revealing a corner of the book.

“ _That_ is the Necronomicon. That’s some good work, kid,” Ash commented as he picked it up. “How’d you find it so quick?”

“My name is _Scorpius_. I’m not a kid, I’m seventeen. We both are. We’re of age,” Scorpius countered irritably. “And I used a summoning spell to call it to me.”

“Scorpus, yeah, whatever. Cool,” Ash muttered distractedly, unwrapping the cloth and dropping it carelessly to the floor. Albus and Scorpius moved forwards to take a closer look. Ash turned it over and showed them the cover, and they both shuddered.

“It’s a face,” Albus observed. “Yuck.”

Ash reached out to open it, and the book abruptly came alive. The downturned mouth started snapping at his fingers as it hissed at him. “Bastard!” he cursed, dropping it to the floor. The book scuttled off, dragging itself by the edges, and disappeared into a darkened doorway beyond the living room. “Fuck!” 

“Let’s go after it,” Albus decided. He ventured forwards and reached cautiously around the door jamb, fumbling for the light. Just then, the cabin went dark. “Shit. Power’s out.” Faintly, he could hear the book hissing and snarling at him. 

“ _Lumos.”_ He held his wand high, shining it around the room. It was a bedroom, he saw. A movement caught his eye and Albus whipped the light around, catching the spine of the book as it disappeared under the bed. 

“Scorp, Ash,” he whispered. “If we work together, I think we can trap it. It’s under the bed.”

“Um, Albus?” Scorpius said nervously from behind him. “We have another problem.”

Albus turned around, registered for the first time a low, menacing growl that wasn’t coming from the book. It was coming from inside the living room. Sweeping his wand around the space, he registered Scorpius and Ash backing carefully towards him, their gaze focused on the front door. Training the light in that direction, Albus was met by the unnerving sight of what appeared to be a partially decomposed dog advancing slowly on them, what remained of its hackles up and its monstrous, half-rotted head lowered. Its lips were pulled back in a snarl, and drool dripped from its jaws. The smell of putrefaction was oozing into the room, carried by the light breeze coming through the entrance.

“Where did _that_ come from?” Albus asked quietly, edging closer to the others.

“From the grave, obviously,” Ash remarked, reaching behind him to retrieve his shotgun from its holster and carefully drawing the hammers back.

“Well, _duh,”_ Scorpius muttered. “It was a rhetorical question.”

The dog charged, barking menacingly. Scorpius raised his wand at the same time as Ash lowered his weapon.

The roar of the shotgun drowned out Scorpius’ spell, but the simultaneous attacks were nonetheless effective. The deadite dog exploded, spraying rotted flesh in all directions. Bits of it splattered the walls and ceiling, as well as the trio’s faces and clothes.

Ash stepped cautiously towards the puddle of goo and reached into it, withdrawing a collar. He examined the tag after wiping it clean on his shirt.

“Stella,” he read, then dropped it back into the mess. “What a bitch.”

Behind him, Scorpius let out a yell. “Something bit me!” He examined his leg. The trouser cuff was shredded and the area was bleeding. A snarling sound was issuing from the bedroom. Lighting his wand tip, he shined it in, joined by Albus. The book was nowhere to be seen. It could be anywhere.

“Ash,” Albus whispered, his eyes following the lights as they bounced around. “How do we destroy the book?”

“Well, the thing is, Al,” Ash answered sheepishly. “I haven’t figured that part out yet.”

Scorpius rounded on him furiously. “How could you _not know?_ You told us you’re connected to it, that you can sense it! You _tracked_ it here!”

“Hey, I never said I knew how to destroy it!” Ash retorted defensively. 

“Well, what have you tried?”

“Ripping it, shooting it, throwing it in the fire,” Ash shrugged, looking over their shoulders into the bedroom. “I’d have tried blowing it up, but I haven’t been able to get my hands on any explosives.”

A thought appeared to occur to him. “Say, You boys wouldn’t have any explosives, would you? Can magic blow things up?”

“Yeah,” Albus replied, thinking. He turned to Scorpius. “What about the blasting spell?My dad said it worked really well in the Battle of the Seven Potters. _”_

“Could work,” Scorpius agreed. “We just have to lure it out.”

“Okay,” Ash nodded. “You go in there, Scorpus, and flush it out.”

“It’s _Scorpius,_ and Albus and I are going to be the ones attempting the spell,” he snapped. “ _Y_ _ou_ go flush it out. And when we say _move_ , get out of the way unless you want to lose a limb, or something.”

“Whatever,” Ash grumbled. He reloaded the shotgun and crept slowly into the room. “Here, book. Heeere, booky booky booky. Come to Ash.”

“It’s not a cat,” Albus snorted in disgust. “I don’t think it’s going to come if you call it.”

“Got any better ideas, Al?” Ash sniped.

“Don’t call me _Al,_ I hate that nickname. It’s _Albus,_ if you don’t mind.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Don’t get your panties in a twist,” Ash snarked.

“Yeah? How would you like me to start calling you Ashy Slashy?”

“Hey, fuck you!”

“No, fuck _you_ —”

A rustle in the corner caused them to stop arguing snap and their heads in that direction, just in time to see the Necronomicon emerge from beneath a chest of drawers and rush at Ash, snarling.

“ _Move!”_ Albus yelled, and Ash ran, diving over the bed as Scorpius raised his wand.

“ _Confringo!”_

It was a direct hit. The book flew into the air, screaming in pain. Bits of paper fluttered around the room.

“Did you get it?” Ash cried, popping up from the other side of the bed.

They slowly converged on the book, which was lying tattered and motionless on the floor. Ash reached out with the barrel of the shotgun and poked it cautiously. It lay still. “Well, looks like you got it. Nice w—”

Abruptly, the book came to life and flew at Ash. He fired, almost hitting Albus and Scorpius in the process, and blew the book across the room. It skittered towards the living room and the trio chased after it. They were just in time to see it disappearing out the front door.

“Fuck, it’s getting away!” Ash groaned.

“Like hell it is!” Scorpius growled. “Come on! After it!”

They rushed outside. It had left a trail in the snow, helping them to track its progress. Growling and snarling could be heard in the distance.

“What else can we try?” Albus worried. “If a blasting spell didn’t do anything, what else is there?”  
  
  


The others were silent as they followed the book through the trees growing behind the cabin.

"How about… Fiendfyre?" Scorpius suggested hesitantly. "If it can destroy a horcrux, I bet it can destroy that book, too."

"Are you nuts? We could incinerate everything around us! Including ourselves! Our parents nearly _died_ after Crabbe cast it while they were at school, or have you forgotten?"

"Yes, but— remember, Dad was working on that charm to control it better."

"What's Fiendfyre?" Ash interrupted, sounding intrigued and not at all bothered by the boys' discussion of how dangerous it was.

"It's a type of Dark magic," Scorpius explained as they continued to follow the book's trail. "It conjures a huge fire that burns hotter than anything in existence, and consumes everything in its path without mercy."

"Well, that sounds perfect!" Ash exclaimed. "Just use that, why don't you?"

"See, the problem is, it's really hard to control." Albus picked up where Scorpius had left off. "It's not _just_ a fire. It's _cursed_ fire, so it has a life and a mind of its own. It takes the shape of beasts and _wants_ to burn everything around it. Once it gets going, stopping it is almost impossible. Fiendfyre has destroyed entire villages."

"It could just as easily turn on us," Scorpius added. "There's a charm to cease the flames, but casting that is even harder than controlling the curse. Most people who cast Fiendfyre don't survive long enough to use the counter-charm."

"But you said your dad was working on something to control it better, right?" Ash responded, his normally confident voice now tinged with unease. 

"He was, but he's really smart and a powerful wizard. Albus and I aren't nearly as advanced, and we haven't even taken our N.E.W.Ts yet."

"Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Test," Albus explained, at Ash's blank expression. "They're our final examinations before we graduate from school."

"Look, I still think we should try," Scorpius interjected. 

"Couldn't we just send a Patronus? Get my Dad and Uncle Ron and the other Aurors here?"

"It'll take too long," Scorpius argued, shaking his head. "And they wouldn't know what they're walking into."

"Go on, kid. I mean, Scorpius. You can do it!" Ash encouraged. 

"Are you sure you can remember your Dad's notes well enough to control it?" Albus asked worriedly.

"No," Scorpius replied heavily. "But I'll do my best. I'll need your help; after I release it, cast _Protego Diabolica._ The notes say if it's correctly cast, it protects the caster and any of their allies within the circle, but will destroy enemies that try to enter."

Albus nodded. "Show me the wand movement."

Scorpius halted, showing his friend the movement he would need to use. Albus practiced it several times while Ash watched on with trepidation, until Scorpius nodded. "You've got it. Good."

Up ahead and somewhere to the right, the hissing and snarling was getting closer.

"It's coming back," Ash whispered.

"It looks like there's a clearing up ahead," Albus noted, pointing through the trees. "We need to get to it."

Around them, an ominous creaking started up. Glancing towards the sky, Albus saw the trees were once again swaying, preparing for another attack. "Go, go, _GO_!" He shouted.

They sprinted for the clearing, the hammering trees narrowly missing them as the trio ducked and weaved. Moments later they were safe, bent over and gasping for breath. Ash was leaning on his chainsaw, using it like a crutch, the blade resting in the snow.

"Man, I gotta give up smoking," he lamented.

"Okay, we'll need to be quick," Scorpius stated, straightening and looking around. "I need to concentrate, so Albus, I need you to put all your efforts into maintaining control of the _Diabolica_."

"Right," Albus nodded.

"What do I do?" Ash asked.

"Try not to die," Scorpius replied.

"Hey—!"

"Just stay out of our way, okay?" Albus interjected. "We're attempting highly advanced magic here. Things could go very wrong, so sit down, shut up and don't move."

Grumbling, Ash settled himself down in the snow while Albus and Scorpius positioned themselves back-to-back, wands at the ready, and moved around in a slow circle.

"There!" Ash exclaimed softly. "On my left, coming out of the tree line!" He pointed. Albus and Scorpius saw it immediately. It was coming straight for them. 

"Ready, Albus?" Scorpius asked.

"Nope."

"Good." Scorpius took a deep breath, then authoritatively called out the incantation. Monstrous red and yellow flames issued from his wand as the Necronomicon came closer. 

_"Protego Diabolica!"_ Albus waved his wand in the precise movement Scorpius had shown him, and suddenly they were surrounded by a wall of bright blue fire. The book danced around the circle, seemingly sensing the danger.

Albus watched, maintaining the circle, as Scorpius' Fiendfyre chased the book around the clearing, roaring and morphing from a dragon to a chimera to a snake. He felt Scorpius' arms extend, and suddenly the cursed fire had split in two, coming in at the book from both sides. 

The Necromonicon ducked and dodged wildly, trying to outrun the flames, but it was of no use. The two ends of the fire abruptly crashed together on either side of the book, engulfing it in an explosive wall of molten destruction. A terrible dying scream pierced their ears.

Gradually, the flames got smaller and smaller until they resembled a tornado, swirling in the spot where they had come together. Scorpius stepped forward, still controlling the spell magnificently, and Albus followed, maintaining the shield around them. "Come on," he said to Ash, looking over his shoulder at him.

Slowly, the trio advanced on the blackened space where the fire had raged. With a final wave of his wand, Scorpius banished the last of the fire. Albus released the shield, and they gathered around. All that was left was a small pile of ashes.

"It's… gone," Ash murmured in wonder. "I can't feel it anymore." He abruptly let out a loud whoop, clapping Scorpius on the back, and then Albus. The blows made them both stagger. 

"Holy shit, we did it! We destroyed the Necronomicon!"

"What do you mean, ' _we'?”_ Scorpius replied, teasingly. "It was us who used magic. You just sat there."

"If it hadn't been for me, you wouldn't have figured out how to destroy it!" Ash argued. "Come on, gimme some credit!"

"Yeah, we know." Albus grinned. Turning to Ash, he started to hold out his right hand, remembered the chainsaw, and quickly extended his left, instead. "Thank you, Ash. It was an honour to battle alongside you."

Scorpius shrugged and held out his own hand. "You fought well, for a Muggle."

Ash nodded magnanimously, shaking each of their hands in turn. "Good to work with you too, fellas. You're pretty skilled with that magic of yours."

Around them came the _pop_ of Apparition. Robed figures appeared on all sides.

"Shit! _Duck!_ " Albus cried, pulling Scorpius and Ash down to the ground as spell fire whizzed over their heads.

_"Cease fire, cease fire!"_ a voice bawled, and the coloured jets of light stopped. " _Albus?"_ the voice continued, in shock.

Albus lifted his head, getting slowly to his knees.

"Um, hi, Dad," he replied sheepishly.

Harry Potter strode towards the trio, his face taut with worry and rage.

"What in Salazar's name are you _doing_ here? Scorpius, you too? Why am I not surprised? Your mothers are going to have a fit! What did you do? And who is _that_?" Harry halted his tirade long enough to point at Ash.

Albus and Scorpius both started talking at once, stumbling over their words in their hurry to explain.

"We were choosing a tree—"

"—the owner turned into a deadite and attacked us—

"There was this book, Dad, see—

"—then we met Ash, here, Mr Potter, he's a Muggle—"

_"Enough!"_ Harry barked. Turning to Albus, he added, "Who conjured the Dark magic and how did you two end up in this situation in the first place? Explain!"

Albus told the whole story from start to finish, with help from Scorpius. Harry's face went through an interesting array of expressions, from horror to surprise to shock to anger and even pride.

When they got to the part about the Fiendfyre, one of the other Aurors interrupted. 

"Wait on—are you saying Draco Malfoy can control Fiendfyre? That's powerful Dark magic! He shouldn't be using that! Mr Potter, we'll have to haul him in—"

"No! You can't! Don't arrest my Dad!" Scorpius interrupted, his voice full of anguish. 

"Now hold on just a goddamn minute."

All heads whipped around to regard Ash, who had been completely forgotten in the commotion. He had stood, and his face was thunderous. 

"You cops—they're cops, right?" Ash asked, looking at Albus for confirmation.

"Wizarding police, yeah."

"You cops are all the same," Ash continued, his tone full of disgust. "You show up _after_ the action ends, take over, arrest the wrong guy and tell yourselves you're doing a bang-up job."

The Aurors stared at Ash as if he were a magical creature that had learned to speak.

"This guy, Scorpius—" Ash pointed at him "—destroyed a very evil book with some righteous fucking fire. And Albus made a blue shield to protect us from it."

"We can't have students conjuring Dark spells," one of the other Aurors growled.

"Shut it, Robbins," Harry snapped. He turned to Scorpius. "What he's saying— did you really control Fiendfyre?"

"Yes, sir," replied Scorpius nervously. 

"And, you, Albus, you conjured a ring of flames? Blue ones?" Albus nodded. " _Protego Diabolica._ You cast that spell?"

"Yeah," Albus said, looking at his feet. A murmur went up around the assembled Aurors.

"Well done, son. Scorpius. Both of you," Harry said quietly, and Albus looked up in surprise. His father was looking at him with pride.

"We couldn't have done it without Ash," Albus explained. "He knew what the book was. He helped us stay alive, and figure out how to destroy it."

"We'll have to Obliviate the Muggle," one of the Aurors commented.

"Hey! No way, man! You can't just go around killing people like that! I've got lots of living to do yet!" Ash protested in panic.

Albus laughed sadly. "No—Obliviation is a memory-modification charm. They want to remove all your memories of tonight, and of us. It's standard procedure when Muggles get caught up in the magical world."

"Oh." Ash looked crestfallen. "Well, I don't want that, either! We made good memories tonight!"

"Dad, do we _have_ to Obliviate Ash? He already knows lots of stuff Muggles don't know, he's not a threat to our world!" Albus begged.

Harry opened his mouth, perhaps to say no, then shut it again. He looked from his son, to Scorpius, to the Muggle named Ash, taking in their worried and hopeful expressions. "I think we should interview this man first," he said to the team behind him. "He might have useful information."

"Thanks, Dad," Albus sighed.

"Now, you two need to get back to the castle," Harry continued. He selected two Aurors. "Smith, DeAngelo—escort the boys back."

The men complied, each taking a boy by the arm. Albus and Scorpius barely had time to farewell Ash before, with a _crack,_ they were Apparated away.  
  


* * *

  
Initially, no one believed their tale. Their Syltherin housemates had heckled and teased Albus and Scorpius, accusing them of making up stupid excuses to explain why they hadn't come back with a tree. That is, until Harry showed up to speak to Headmistress McGonagall.

The next day, at breakfast, she made a brief but rousing speech, explaining what had happened and congratulating the boys on successfully destroying a Dark artifact, protecting an unknown number of Muggles in the process. Finally, she awarded them fifty points apiece for bravery and magical skill. Their table erupted in cheers. That night, a party was held in the Slytherin common room in Albus and Scorpius' honour.

Albus had owled his father to ask about Ash's fate, but he had not received a reply. After several days, the boys resigned themselves to the fact that the Muggle had likely been Obliviated as planned, and that they would never see him again.

The following Friday, Albus and Scorpius were summoned to the Headmistress's office. They arrived to find Harry waiting for them, a small smile on his face. 

"Come with me, boys," he said with a conspiratorial wink. He led them to the Floo. Turning back to the Headmistress, he added, "We shan't be long, Minerva."

"Just as long as they are back in the castle by nine pm, Mr Potter." The elderly witch nodded primly.

"Ministry of Magic," Harry called. The green flames shot up and the trio stepped through, arriving moments later in the Atrium. Without a word, Harry strode forward, forcing Albus and Scorpius to follow after him. They got in the lifts and zoomed into the bowels of the Ministry.

" _Department of Magical Law Enforcement_ ," the elevator stated when it finally stopped. Harry stepped briskly out and walked down the hall.

"Dad, what's going on?"

"You'll see," Harry replied mysteriously.

He finally stopped in front of a door with his name on the front, opened it, and ushered the boys through.

"Ash!" Albus exclaimed joyously when he saw who was waiting for them.

"Hey, boys!" Ash greeted them with a grin.

They ran to the man, who had at some point detached the chainsaw from his stump, and embraced him. 

"We thought you'd been Obliviated for sure!" Scorpius cried. "How did you avoid it?"

"Well, we interviewed him carefully. And discovered something very interesting," Harry spoke up from behind them. Albus and Scorpius turned curiously to regard the bespectacled wizard.

"It turns out that Mr Williams is related to several wizarding families," Harry continued. 

"But, then, how come he never went to Hogwarts?" Albus frowned.

Scorpius gasped in realisation, looking at Ash in amazement. "You're a _Squib_!"

"That's right." Harry nodded. "His mother was a half-blood witch and his father a Muggle, but she never revealed that she was magical for fear he would reject her."

"So—does that mean you _aren't_ going to Obliviate him?" Albus checked.

"Yes." Harry smiled. “He can live with the knowledge of our world, just as other Squibs do."

"Can we take him to Diagon Alley?" Scorpius asked excitedly.

"Perhaps another time," Harry replied, looking at his watch. "I'd better get you boys back to the castle. Say goodbye to Ash."

Albus and Scorpius hugged their friend once again.

"I'm going to buy you an owl so you can write to us!" Scorpius exclaimed.

"Owl post, right?" Ash nodded. "Yeah, your dad told me about that. Cool."

Harry led them through the door, promising Ash he would return shortly. "And remember - _don't touch anything!_ " he cautioned sternly. "There's stuff in here that's dangerous even to magical people."

"No worries, bud," Ash grinned. "See ya, fellas. Come back and hang with me soon, okay?"

As they walked down the hall towards the lifts, Albus and Scorpius exchanged a grin. They were sure to have some fantastic adventures together, and they couldn't wait to graduate so they could get started.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Special shout-out to QuinTalon - I was stuck on how to feasibly have Albus and Scorp use advanced Dark magic without things spiraling out of control. It was her idea for Draco to have perfected a way to more effectively control fiendfyre, and for the boys to have stumbled across his notes. Thank you!


End file.
